Free Vow to Protect by Ann Voss Peterson Page B

If my belief in you was so significant, why did you destroy it?”
    He pawed a hand over his face and let it fall limp to his side. “I don’t know. I guess I just couldn’t believe back.”
    She closed her eyes. She’d spent ten long yearswishing things hadn’t happened the way they had. But wishing never changed anything. It was time she accept it and let go.
    She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “That’s exactly why you can’t be around Ethan. I’ve brought him up to believe. And I want him to stay that way.”
    Â 
    S UZANNE B ELLE PULLED off her boring old suit and blouse and tried to think of what the hell to wear. Friday night out with the girls always gave her wardrobe envy, a condition that her addiction to shopping never seemed to cure. Whatever she chose to put on, another one of the gang was wearing something shorter or sexier or just plain better looking—in short, something that garnered more attention.
    Slipping off her utilitarian bra and white cotton panties, she opened her lingerie drawer and plucked out her favorite, the red lace bra that made her breasts look at least one cup size bigger than they really were. At least she had good lingerie. That was a start.
    Maybe she should build on that. Maybe her white see-through blouse would capture a little attention. Show off the red lace. It was worth a shot. God knew she didn’t want to spend another night out drinking alone while her friends were on the dance floor.
    She was about to slip it on when movement outside her window caught her eye.
    She grabbed her suit jacket. Holding it in front of her to cover her nakedness, she peered into the darkness.
    Sure enough, there was a peeping Tom standing on the rooftop deck of the new brick condos next door. She stepped to the window to get a better look.
    She didn’t usually go for guys with red hair and beards, but this one was pretty hot. Respectable looking, even, and respectable usually meant money. Maybe he wasn’t a peeping Tom at all, but just a nice guy who couldn’t keep from looking when the opportunity presented itself. The only problem was, he wasn’t looking at her.
    But he would be.
    She let the jacket fall to the floor and stepped back from the window to give him a full-length view.
    The bastard didn’t even have the decency to notice. His attention was focused down at the building beneath him. Through the solarium window of the penthouse he watched as the shadow of a fully clothed woman paced inside.

Chapter Eight
    Cord pulled the strip washer from his bucket and tilted it to the side, letting the excess window-cleaning solution run off into the bucket. When it faded to a trickle, he tilted the washer the opposite way and brought it to the glass.
    He figured that while he was here, he might as well work. The prospect of just sitting around listening to every word or movement or breath from Melanie and Ethan was agony. Running over his discussion with Mel last night was torture.
    After wetting the pane, he set the strip washer back in the bucket and pulled out his razor scraper. Flipping down the blade guard, he started scraping the manufacturer’s sticker and other debris from the glass.
    â€œCan I help?”
    The voice was so quiet, at first he thought itwas his mind playing tricks. He spun around to face his son.
    His son.
    He’d turned the idea over in his mind all night, and still the fact he was a father stunned him. “Not a great idea.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    Because Cord had nothing to offer? Because kids shouldn’t be hanging around ex-cons? Murderers? “Um, I don’t think your mom would like it.”
    â€œShe doesn’t care.”
    Right. “Where is she?”
    â€œSleeping.”
    Cord had listened to the steady beat of her pacing all night. It was about time she got some sleep. And when she woke up, Cord could just imagine how happy she’d be to see Ethan kicking it